Uncertainties
by Heeroluva
Summary: McCoy helps Pike at his lowest point. McCoy/Pike


Title: Uncertainties  
Author: heeroluva  
Pairing: Pike/McCoy  
Contains: h/c, impotence, talk of past torture  
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I just like to play with them.  
Summary: McCoy helps Pike at his lowest point.  
Notes: Written for florahart for happy_trekmas who wanted Pike and McCoy helping each other heal and face their demons. Hope you like it! All mistakes are mine. Feel free to let me know if you see any. As always feedback is appreciated.

* * *

To say that Pike hated his wheelchair was an understatement. He loathed it. To Pike, it was the worst kind of insult to suddenly find himself confined in such a way, when strength of both body and mind had held such a significant place in his life. To be so dependent on something like that was abhorrent.

The endless looks of pity he received from those that passed him when he was out and from those he called friends when they came to visit him were hard to swallow. He didn't want their pity. He didn't want anything from them but to be left the hell alone, so he could drink himself stupid and pretend that his life, his career, hadn't suddenly been hijacked by an insane alien hell bent on revenge for something that hadn't even happened yet, and that things were going to be okay. But they weren't ever going to be okay.

Dr. Leonard McCoy was the only one that hadn't look at him that way. Chris would have assumed it was a doctor thing if not for the fact that all the specialists he had seen had given him that same sympathetic looks. So apparently it was a McCoy thing. Dr. McCoy had scoffed at the specialists' diagnosis, the proclamation that the damage was too great, that even with today's technically there was little they could do for him, and Pike would likely never walk again.

The day that Chris had relieved the news, he broke out the hard stuff, probably would have drank himself to death if McCoy hadn't found him, forcibly made him puke up his guts, and gave him enough detox to drop a horse. He hadn't felt magnanimous enough to cure Pike's hangover while he was at it, claiming that Pike had 'made the decision to crawl into a bottle' and that he'd 'pulled Pike out of it' but he 'sure as hell wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily.' If Pike was stupid enough to drink that much, the hangover that he received from it should have been a good enough lesson to not do it again.

And it had been. McCoy had stayed with him as he puked out his stomach and several other organs that he thought he needed, but his body apparently disagreed at the time. The doctor had just laughed at his proclamation, claiming that all his organs were still inside where they belonged, but Pike hadn't been convinced at the time. The headache that followed was on par with the torture that he'd received at Nero's hands. Experiencing that once was more than enough, so when he woke up with from a nightmare caused by the headache, shaking and gagging, McCoy had been there for him. Chris had throw himself at the other man, moving as close as his useless legs had allowed, and McCoy had just held him tightly as he shook, not asking questions, not passing judgment, just being an anchor to tether Chris in the sea of horror filled memories. Pike didn't notice the hypo until it hit his neck, and by that time, the drugs carried him off to sleep.

When he awoke again he felt better, not one hundred percent, but he hadn't felt that in a long time, but closer to his current normal. He was surprised when he looked over and found that Dr. McCoy was still there, sleeping in the chair in the corner, neck bent in such a way that Pike knew the doctor was going to have a nasty neck ache when he awoke. He must have drifted off again, because when he awoke again the chair was empty. He jumped slightly when McCoy suddenly walked out of the adjoining bathroom, dressed in a fresh uniform and towel drying his hair.

Chris had never really taken the time to look at the other man before, not like this, and he was suddenly hit by how truly young the other man really was. Not even thirty yet and the top of his field, having already experienced more than some people twice his age. He'd go far, Pike knew. He also doesn't look half bad, a traitorous part of his mind whispered too him. But despite telling it to shut up, he couldn't help but admire McCoy's lean frame, the uniform accenting it in all the right ways.

McCoy suddenly froze as if feeling the weight of the stare and slowly lowered his towel, meeting Pike's eyes, before blushing bright red. Pike couldn't help but grin at the reaction, so out of place from the doctor's normal calm and collected exterior.

Dropping the towel in the fresher, McCoy cleared his throat before going right for the throat. "Hope you've learned your lesson after that stupid stunt you pulled yesterday."

Pike had the grace to look ashamed, but nodded, "Yes. Thank you."

"Now, those other doctor are idiots. Don't know what the hell they're talking about. I have no idea how they became the specialists in their fields, but those quacks don't have two brain cells between them. The damage isn't as bad as they made it out to be. There's some risk, but then there always is. They're just too scared to take it, and have to explain what they did wrong if they mess up. Now don't get me wrong, you'll probably never run again, probably always have a limp and need a cane or other walking aid, but I'm confident that we can get you walking again."

McCoy paused for a moment, and Pike just gaped at him, not believing what he was hearing. He had every bit of confidence in the man in front of him. The doctor had saved his life after all, but he'd resigned himself to being stuck in that damned chair the rest of his life. He couldn't even form words, but McCoy continued without any input on his part.

"Of course, it's not going to be easy. It'll be months, if not longer, and it's not going to be painless. But I have no doubt that we'll get you walking again."

That had been six months ago and two surgeries past. A lot had changed since then. Chris could now manage a few steps unaided. Compared to the miles that he'd used to run everyday this was nothing, but he couldn't be happier with his progress. Dr. McCoy had been with him every step of the way, growling back when Pike bitched about his lack of progress, massaging his aching limbs, as feeling returned to atrophied muscles, and being a closer friend than any he'd had in a long time.

But even still Pike felt as though he didn't really know the man, that he was always holding a part of himself back. McCoy went out with Jim on a regular basis, did his job and enjoyed it, but he never dated, never brought anyone home, and never gave anyone more than a cursory glance of interest. He knew the man had a painful divorce, was still dealing with the fall out if the phone calls that usually led to yelling and ended with him storming out, and stumbling back in several hours later, shitfaced drunk, was anything to go by. McCoy never brought it up and Chris never pushed him. But he'd seen the picture of the little girl that the doctor kept in his bedside table, and only looked at when he thought he was alone, and couldn't help but wonder.

Pike was pulled from his musing as McCoy walked into the apartment that they'd gotten together for convenience's sake. Pike stood to welcome him from the couch on the other side of the room. McCoy grinned in greeting, and moved towards him, but Pike said, "No, stay." And he did.

Cane in hand, Pike shuffled slowly forward, one shaky step at a time. It was longer than anything he'd ever attempted before, farther than he should have even tried in his current state, and in the end McCoy met him half way. It was a good thing his did because Pike's legs chose that moment to give out on him. McCoy's arms shot out, but it wasn't enough to save them and sent them both to the floor, though the landing was a little softer than it would have been as Pike managed to land half on top of the doctor.

McCoy pulled them both into a sitting position before he began his tirade. "You idiot. What the hell were you thinking.? You could have just undone weeks if not months worth of work with that little stunt. What were you trying to prov—"

Pike shut him up with a kiss, slanting his mouth over McCoy's like he'd wanted to do for months now.

For a moment McCoy kiss him back, before pulling back. "No, I can't."

Chris gave him a sad smile and cupped his face. "Leonard. You're such a hypocrite."

McCoy bristled both at the name and the accusation, but Pike continued on.

"You lecture me about living and not giving up. But you're not doing either. You're running. It's time to stop, and start living again. I can't promise you happily ever after or forever, but I care for you for you and think you care for me too." Pike paused for a moment.

McCoy nodded hesitantly.

Pike placed his other hand over McCoy's heart. "I know you've been hurt before. You don't have to talk about it. But can you trust me with this?"

McCoy swallowed thickly, resting his hand over Chris' before fisting their fingers together. He tugged it up, and placed a kiss on Pike's knuckles. "I already do." He looked away, unable to meet Pike's eyes and forced out his next words as though it cost him a lot to say them. "I'm scared. Don't know how to do this anymore."

"You're not the only one."

McCoy glanced at him, eyebrow raised.

"You don't have the market corned on bad relationships. I'll tell you about it someday." Pike paused, feeling a blush of shame and embarrassment color his cheeks. "You know I still can't— I haven't—" Pike broke off unable to say it. He couldn't even bring himself to think about it most of the time.

It was McCoy's turn to lean forward and kiss him softly, tenderly. "It doesn't matter. We've been over this. You've suffered a serious trauma. It could take time. If you're never able to, I don't care. We'll get through it. Now come on. Let's get you to bed, and see what damage you've done."

Pike leered at him, and McCoy laughed.

"Now none of that." Reaching for Pike's chair, he rolled it close before locking the breaks and helping Pike into it before wheeling Pike to his bedroom. Helping Chris into bed, he pulled out his tricorder and began his scans. "You're lucky there's no serious damage. No walking for two days."

Pike opened his mouth to protest.

"Doctor's orders. Be happy it's not bed rest."

Pike looked mulish but nodded.

"Next time you want my attention, just talk to me; don't pull a stunt like that. Or you could just begin with a kiss," McCoy said with a wink.

Pike pulled him down for a kiss that left them both breathless. "Stay with me tonight?" He asked.

McCoy glanced at the door then back to Chris. He didn't answer, but bent over and undid his shoes, and stripped out of his uniform, leaving him in undershirt and boxers. Turning, he helped Pike with his own clothes before ordering the lights off and climbing into bed next to Pike. It was a big bed, and they didn't touch.

Long minutes passed with nothing but the sound of their breathing, before Pike huffed in annoyance and growled, "Oh, for Christ sake." He reached over and dragged McCoy over to him, murmuring, "Relax."

McCoy drew a calming breath and forced himself to relax. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

When Pike finally felt the doctor's breath even out in sleep, he let his thoughts drift. Nothing was certain. He had no idea what they were doing here, no idea where they would go, but he wanted to try. He hadn't wanted something so badly for years, and felt it was time to indulge himself for once. It was going to be an interesting journey.


End file.
